(no subject)
it's almost a year to the day since i crossed the border from israel into egypt. it was maybe today, last year, that i got the call from my ray ban-clad lawyer that the supreme court had passed the decision we all knew was coming since my clandestine journeys back to the west bank became less so (thanks ha'aretz). one week to get out.
i never lived a week like that one. how do you say goodbye to a place like that forever?
i remember every second of the five-hour bus ride from jerusalem to eilat. i could have hitched, but i was too afraid of my last hours in the country spent stuck in a car with a kahanist or something. the last days simply fell through my hands like water, evaporating in the rapidly-approaching summer heat.
there were no seats on the bus; i sat in the stairwell. i had seen the negev only near gaza, where soft dunes were now blanketed in grass, & jewish national fund tree-planting initiatives. out east, the moonscape clawed its way out of the sand on either side of the long, black road. the mountains glowed an impossible red. more than anything, i wanted to get out of the bus & follow the line of date palms up in to the crags.
the bus stopped sometimes at random junctures in the road, where soldiers would climb out of the sand & hop onto the bus, sinking into the empty seat that appeared for them. a bronzed woman climbed off at a kibbutz & disappeared into the shimmering heat.
people say eilat is the weirdest place in israel. blood pounding, i fixed my eyes on the road to the border. i can't explain what i felt.
some days the longing is all but acute.
i never lived a week like that one. how do you say goodbye to a place like that forever?
i remember every second of the five-hour bus ride from jerusalem to eilat. i could have hitched, but i was too afraid of my last hours in the country spent stuck in a car with a kahanist or something. the last days simply fell through my hands like water, evaporating in the rapidly-approaching summer heat.
there were no seats on the bus; i sat in the stairwell. i had seen the negev only near gaza, where soft dunes were now blanketed in grass, & jewish national fund tree-planting initiatives. out east, the moonscape clawed its way out of the sand on either side of the long, black road. the mountains glowed an impossible red. more than anything, i wanted to get out of the bus & follow the line of date palms up in to the crags.
the bus stopped sometimes at random junctures in the road, where soldiers would climb out of the sand & hop onto the bus, sinking into the empty seat that appeared for them. a bronzed woman climbed off at a kibbutz & disappeared into the shimmering heat.
people say eilat is the weirdest place in israel. blood pounding, i fixed my eyes on the road to the border. i can't explain what i felt.
some days the longing is all but acute.